


Supplementary Lessons

by Evesi



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Assassin's Creed III, First Kiss, Frottage, Incest, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 18:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evesi/pseuds/Evesi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Davenport had taught Connor well, but Haytham noted that the boy was decidedly lacking in one certain area.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supplementary Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following prompt on the AssCreed kink meme: _This may be a bit unusual but bear with me, okay? This anon's kink is kissing. Yup, just that: kissing. So this anon would like to see two character of writenon's choice enjoying a good make out session consisting of lazily kissing each other._
> 
> _Do they enjoy it for what it is or do they prefer making it enjoyable to their partner? Are they standing up or lying on the ground? Spider-man style? Do they get turned on just by the kiss? First experience? Maybe one of them has more experience and teaches the other the way they like it? Go wild, anon. The more unusual it is, the better._
> 
> _This anon is looking for something slow-paced/fun/light-hearted and descriptive of the kiss itself, so porn and story are entirely optional (but very welcome nonetheless). Make me smile? :)_
> 
> _ Preferred pairings are AltMal, Ezio/anyone (like, seriously, I'm totally okay with literally anyone), DesLucy, DesClay and ConHayth, but I'm not picky so if you want to go with something else entirely that's totally cool with me! _
> 
> Now available in [Korean](http://hacogom.dothome.co.kr/bbs/view.php?id=Translation&page=1&sn1=&divpage=1&category=2&sn=off&ss=on&sc=on&select_arrange=headnum&desc=asc&no=42) for your viewing pleasure! :D

Haytham could not deny that Davenport had taught his son well. Connor wielded his weapons with deadly grace and strength--a whirlwind of death and destruction. He was forever slow to compliment the boy, and it could perhaps even be said that he felt jealous that it was another man’s teachings that had made his son into such an efficient tool of war. After all, was that not his role as the father to educate and raise the boy as he saw fit? To have his place stolen away like that...

Well, at least the old Assassin had failed to teach Connor about one certain part of life.

It came to the forefront of Haytham’s attention after Connor saw fit to throw them out of a burning building and into a river, and while they were originally going to part ways immediately, the onset of dusk and the threat of catching cold meant it was wiser to spend the night somewhere nearby. They would clean up, dry their outfits, and be off early in the morning, and that would be that.

The boy had remained uncomfortably quiet for the majority of their time at the inn thus far, and in an effort to ease the uncomfortable silence, Haytham had attempted to speak about a wide variety of inane things--including Connor’s romantic endeavors. It was perhaps an odd choice of conversation for the two of them, but this was more in line with what a normal father would ask his son, right?

Well, maybe not. What did he know of normal fatherhood? Haytham rather doubted he understood the concept very well, given his own upbringing and the estranged relationship he had with his own son.

Either way, Connor had responded with a snarly negative, and in genuine surprise, Haytham had prodded further. After all, by his son’s age, he’d had several partners of his own, and that was _with_ the additions of his Templar duties. Surely being an Assassin couldn’t require so much time that the boy had never tried _anything_ \--no romantic interests, no kissing, no sex. The boy’s temper only rose with further questioning, and after a brief (and rather pointless) argument about wasting one’s youth, Connor had boldly stated that it didn’t matter, that he could figure out how to kiss when the opportunity arose, and that this entire conversation was _ridiculous_.

The flush of his cheeks seemed to suggest otherwise though.

Nonetheless, Haytham let the topic lie for the time being. It was only after they’d both washed the stench of the river off of their skin and out of their hair that he broached it once more--or rather, he decided that he’d go ahead and act on it. Davenport had already taught the boy so much; he had a fair amount of ground to make up for, and if this was the topic put before him...

Well, he fancied himself an expert in the field, so it worked out, awkward familial ties be damned.

Connor had sat down on his bed, and instead of taking a seat on his own, Haytham took a place beside the boy. His son frowned at him, puzzled, but when he did not immediately push him away, he leaned in and brushed his lips against his jaw. The boy smelled of the soap they’d used, but beneath that, Haytham could detect a more earthy scent, one that reminded him of Ziio.

Of course, that happy memory lasted for all of two seconds before a hand was being shoved into his face, and Connor was yelling. “What are you doing?” he demanded, his blush reappearing in between one second and the next. “Are you mad?”

“I’m saving you from looking like a fool later on,” he answered matter-of-factly, as if this was the most obvious answer to ever be given. “Come now, Connor. To have never been kissed at this age... It’s deplorable.”

“I already told you that I do not need your instruction on such matters.”

“Oh?” Haytham arched a brow at the boy. “Do you believe yourself naturally gifted then?”

“I never said that,” Connor snapped.

“You are embarrassed. I understand. I suppose that being as inexperienced as you are would lead you to be rather irritable when-- _umph!_ ”

So it would seem that repeatedly poking fun at the boy’s pride was the way to get him to act. A pair of unmoving lips had pressed against his, and Haytham blinked in surprise at this development. Connor had his eyes screwed shut, and his entire body was tense: eyebrows knit, shoulders raised, body tilted at a rather odd angle.

With a soft sigh, Haytham gently placed his hands on the boy’s arms and pushed him away. “Unskilled, just as I thought,” he said softly, but there was more humor to his tone than actual accusation. “You’ll frighten away all your partners that way. Just... relax a little, hm?”

He ducked in and initiated the kiss again, keeping the press of his lips gentle; his hands squeezed Connor’s arms lightly, willing him to ease into it. Haytham did not push him any further until he stopped acting like a spooked cat, dropping featherlight kisses against his cheeks, his jaw and murmuring soft words of encouragement. “Let it happen naturally.”

The boy nodded, and Haytham leaned in again, applying more force this time. Releasing one arm, he let that hand tangle loosely in damp hair, silently asking Connor to remain as he was--to not pull away. His tongue darted out, drawing a wet stripe across the boy’s lower lip, and it made him gasp; Haytham took that opportunity to delve deeper.

For a moment, he worried that Connor would shove him away like before, but apparently, his son was enjoying himself more than he thought. Connor made a soft noise, stiffening for a moment, before all but melting into it. He reciprocated, allowing his tongue to slide along his father’s; his hand lifted, hovering uncertainly in the air.

When they broke, Haytham grasped his wrist and guided him, allowing it to settle lightly on his shoulder. Connor stared at him, wide-eyed and in a daze, and he could not help but smile a little. “You are free to touch, you know,” he commented idly. “I find it tends to enhance the experience.”

Those words seemed to drag the boy out of his little reverie, and he frowned, eyes shifting downwards and toward the side. “Why would I do that?”

Haytham shrugged, but he noted that Connor’s hand remained right where it was. “Shall we go again?”

His son didn’t bother responding with words and opted to take the lead this time, bumping their noses together in his haste. Haytham touched a hand to his cheek, a smirk pulling at his lips, before returning it to his hair. “Slowly, child. No point in rushing.”

Adjusting the angle of his approach, he kissed the boy again, and this time, those soft lips parted for him immediately, the fingers on his shoulder tightening minutely. The ease with which Connor settled was more noticeable this time, and he leaned into it, pressing his advantage when Haytham didn’t; this time it was _his_ tongue that slipped past his partner’s lips. Long fingers shifted from dark locks to cup the boy’s face, thumb stroking along his cheekbone. Connor subtly arched into the touch, humming low in his throat.

Idly, Haytham wondered if his son took to all aspects of learning so eagerly. If Davenport had it this easy, then the legends of the man’s teaching prowess were vastly overstated; this wasn’t difficult at all. There was hardly any effort involved as one kissed dissolved into another, their breaths intermingling and warming his skin. Connor’s actions were still a touch rushed, causing their teeth to clack together once or twice, but Haytham would temper that overzealous nature with light nips, correcting the boy without saying a word.

Calloused hands finally shifted against his shoulders, exerting a gentle but persistent backwards force. Haytham made a curious sound in the back of his throat but went along with it, allowing Connor to tip him onto his back, the mattress soft beneath him. The boy followed, lips chasing after his, and he chuckled into the kiss, the sound of his voice turning into a low moan as the warm weight of Connor settled over him.

“Gently. _Gently_ ,” he repeated when he felt teeth graze roughly against his skin, eyes fluttering shut. Haytham reached up, tugged on his son’s hair, and Connor relented, lifting himself up on his arms. “Like this.”

He propped himself up onto his elbows and dragged his tongue over the curve of the boy’s throat, pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the pulse point he found there, and at last, allowed himself the slightest drag of teeth that had Connor trembling above him. Haytham smiled, all pride and arrogance, and then tilted his chin upwards to capture his son’s mouth again, easing his tongue past kissed-red lips.

The boy’s arousal pressed against his thigh, the heat of it apparent even through the cotton of their nightshirts, and as Haytham broke the kiss to suck on his lower lip, Connor’s hips jerked, his fingers curling all the more tightly around the sheets. His grip only strengthened when Haytham circled his legs around the boy’s waist, drawing him closer. Reaching between them, he tugged the offending clothing upwards so it bunched at their waists, allowing their cocks to drag against each other with each rock of the hips.

It had Connor moaning into their kisses, and he replied in turn, their voices mingling in the quiet of their room. Trusting his son to support the weight of both of them, Haytham looped his arms around the boy, hands splayed across his broad back, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. The air between them grew hot, the actions between them becoming ever more desperate, and even Haytham could not slow the pace now--not when Connor’s tongue was sweeping over his jawline, his teeth worrying his earlobe.

Not to be outdone, he reciprocated by reclaiming that wicked mouth, surging into the kiss with such possessiveness that Connor stilled the movements of his hips. One hand slipping upwards to cradle the back of his son’s head, Haytham crushed their lips together and rocked up against him, precum smearing over their shirts. He slipped his other hand between them and curled his fingers around their erections and tugged, eliciting a sharp cry from Connor.

Kiss broken, they panted, forehead pressed to forehead, as they both fucked Haytham’s fist. His son was the first to spill, his powerful body shuddering above him, and it was the sloppy kisses to his brow that eventually sent Haytham over the edge, adding to the sticky mess already spread between them.

With a self-satisfied sigh, he settled back against the mattress, one leg dropping over the side of the bed, toes brushing the cool floor. Connor joined him a heartbeat later, half draped over him, and for a moment, Haytham thought to complain about the heat and the weight. When the boy pressed a final kiss against his temple, though, he thought better of it, lips curling into a lazy smile.

“There are better ways to kiss your partner goodnight,” he murmured, eyes sliding shut; Connor grunted beside him. “But I suppose that will have to be a lesson for another day.”


End file.
